"Harry's mother, Lily Potter, willingly gave her life to save his," Professor Dumbledore recounted. "A mother's love, the only protection powerful enough to counter the Killing Curse."
Oleandra kept silent, waiting for Dumbledore to finish with his theatrics.
"What I would like to know is who exactly sacrificed themselves for you," Professor Dumbledore said. "According to Harry's account of the events that transpired in Little Hangleton's cemetery, the two of you were alone."
"What makes you think it was this kind of protection that saved me?" Oleandra asked curiously. He was correct, but she still wanted to learn how he had known. "Unlike Harry, I didn't escape unscathed, and as far as I know, Voldemort's Curse was not reflected back onto him, since he's apparently still running around in his new body."
Instead of answering, Professor Dumbledore snapped his fingers. Some hospital curtain dividers popped into existence next to Oleandra, and Madam Pomfrey stepped forward.
"With your permission, I believe it would be safer to have a professional inspect your current condition, Miss Greengrass," said Professor Dumbledore. "I will wait until Madam Pomfrey has formed an opinion before answering your question; it would be wiser to avoid jumping to any hasty conclusions until all the facts are in hand."
"Very well, then," Oleandra reluctantly agreed. If the Killing Curse had left sequelae on her body, she wanted to know about them.
Madam Pomfrey ushered her into the space delimited by the dividers and took out her wand.
"Any scarring?" Madam Pomfrey asked gently.
But just as Oleandra was about to answer, the nurse's eyes went wide. She grabbed Oleandra's head, tilting it slightly, and shined a beam of light from her wand onto Oleandra's face.
"Merlin's briefs, Albus!" Madam Pomfrey gasped. "That's a powder burn, on her cheek! This girl has been shot at by a Muggle firearm— I'm legally obligated to report this kind of injury to the Ministry!"
"I thought I had got rid of that," Oleandra muttered.
Due to their limited time together, Viviane had prioritized teaching Oleandra advanced healing magics; stuff that mended broken bones or open wounds, that sort of thing. More subtle or less advanced healing spells were currently beyond her; which was why Oleandra hadn't managed to get rid of the specks of burnt gunpowder imbedded in her cheek, from when a point-blank shot had narrowly missed her head.
"Please remove your top," Madam Pomfrey instructed her.
Oleandra reluctantly peeled off the top part of her robes and removed her brassiere. Her upper body's skin was peppered with faded, half-healed, purple and yellow round bruises, where her Basilisk robes had successfully managed to stop the markswoman's bullets. The bruises around her legs were much more apparent, but thankfully, Madam Pomfrey hadn't asked her to completely strip naked.
The advanced healing spells Viviane had taught her dealt with injuries much more severe than simple bruises; since bruises weren't life threatening, Oleandra had simply ignored them, as they would heal, given a few weeks.
"What in the world happened to you here, girl?" Madam Pomfrey gaped.
Madam Pomfrey immediately got to work removing the injuries. She waved her wand, which was now emitting a warm glow, over Oleandra's upper body. A comfortable feeling spread throughout her skin wherever it passed over her; she'd have to ask Madam Pomfrey about this one later.
"What have we here…" Madam Pomfrey murmured; her eyes drawn to the lightning bolt scar on Oleandra's chest. She muttered a few more incantations under her breath. "You can put your clothes back on, dear," she told Oleandra, before adding loudly for Professor Dumbledore's benefit, "we're done!"
She exited the makeshift tent made out of curtain dividers, and Oleandra quickly followed her out once she had made herself presentable.
"Well, the good news is that there is no sign of residual dark magic in the cursed scar, just like in Mr. Potter's case," Madam Pomfrey was telling Professor Dumbledore. "But Albus, the girl looks like she's walked through a war zone; I need to report this, the law—"
"In due time, Poppy," said Dumbledore firmly. "But not with the Ministry in its current state."
Madam Pomfrey nodded stiffly in acknowledgement, before stalking out of the headmaster's office, leaving Oleandra and Professor Dumbledore alone together. He no longer had his back turned to her, but neither was he meeting her gaze; a bauble on his desk seemed to have captured his interest.
"I suppose this confirms it," said Professor Dumbledore gravely. "Harry reported a slight rebound, though it did not seem to phase Lord Voldemort, even in his weakened form. And you now bear a similar scar— I believe it is safe to assume that a sacrificial protection was invoked in your case. Allow me to reiterate; who gave their life for you?"
"A family friend," said Oleandra as she struggled to maintain a neutral expression. "You wouldn't know her, she's French."
It wasn't a lie; Viviane had been friends with her distant ancestor: the first Greengrass.
"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. No wonder he hadn't heard of any deaths... "I'm truly sorry for your loss."
"Thanks," said Oleandra dully.
Silence fell over the room, disturbed only by the whirring of the various clockwork apparatus on his desk. A portrait in the corner of the room yawned.
"If I were to ask about the other injuries Madam Pomfrey mentioned…" Dumbledore began, but Oleandra cut him off.
"I encountered some trouble on the way back, that's all," she said, in a tone that clearly indicated that she did not want to say any more on the subject. "And if you're asking about what happened to those who did this to me, I can safely say that they are still of sound mind and body."
It was at that moment that Oleandra saw something out of the corner of her eye that caught her attention; a frumpy piece of cloth. It was the Sorting Hat; and now that she was seeing it from up close again, memories of Harry pulling the Sword of Gryffindor out of it came flooding back.
"I… I was wondering if Godric Gryffindor had left any martial arts manuals," said Oleandra, and trying to guilt-trip Dumbledore into giving her what she wanted, she added, "The woman who was going to teach me sword fighting sacrificed herself for me, so I don't have a teacher any more…"
"Miss Greengrass," said Professor Dumbledore quietly. "How proficient are you at Occlumency?"
Oleandra blinked.
…What?
What did that have to do with anything!?